


The Role of a Ranger

by Walutahanga



Series: Working in the Shadows [1]
Category: Power Rangers, Power Rangers in Space
Genre: Alternate Character Interpretation, Gen, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 11:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walutahanga/pseuds/Walutahanga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every ranger has a specialised role on the team. In the switch from green to black, Carlos learns what his new duties entail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Role of a Ranger

Carlos walked into the Mega-ship gym. He still wasn't quite comfortable here. It wasn't yet 'his territory', as Cassie put it. They still felt like visitors. None of them had been around the ship long enough to wear their presence into it. Rather like wolves marking their territory.

Carlos smiled at the analogy.The expression quickly withered and died.

This wolf pack had undergone some serious changes. TJ was no longer alpha. He'd stepped aside gracefully to let Andros take over. There was only minimal awkwardness when someone would forget and turn to TJ instead.

Carlos still wasn't sure what he thought of the sudden change.

But acceptance was made easier by the fact that Andros was the most experienced ranger among them. They instinctively turned to him for guidance in their new roles and responsibilities.

If only he wasn't so strict about it.

Dimetria had been willing to let them gradually develop their roles on the team. It had been difficult at first, but each one of them had found their niche. Carlos had been the hot-blooded one, the opposite of TJ's cool, rational logic. Justin had been the brains. Cassie had been the martial arts expert (since she had a black belt in judo, and none of the others, barring Justin, knew a thing about it). Ashley was the glue between the seams, the one that held them all together even when their differences threatened to drive them apart.

Andros, however, took a more organised approach. He told them each exactly what role they would play in the team – with the implication that if they did not fit within the specified role, they would be  _made_  to fit.

Carlos had heard him talking to Cassie on the other day.

"You'll have had basic medical training, I assume," he'd said, talking more to the computer than her.

Cassie had looked surprised.

"Should I have?"

Andros had stopped what he was doing to stare at her. Cassie had done her best, but still cringed slightly under what Carlos called The Look.

"You're the team medic, aren't you?"

If possible, Cassie had looked even more confused.

"We have a team-medic?"

There had been another long moment of that frosty glare, then Andros left his workstation.

"Come with me."

Cassie had followed him out the door, casting a glance over her shoulder at the others. Curious, Carlos had shadowed them. He kept far enough back not to be seen, but close enough to defend Cassie if need be. Not from physical attack - he trusted Andros that far. And out of all of them, Cassie was the one who stood the best chance of handing Andros' ass back to him. But their new leader could be a cold-hearted bastard sometimes. Carlos didn't want Cassie bursting into tears because Andros couldn't learn to interact with other human beings.

Andros, however, had not said a word until they reached the sick bay. Then he'd finally spoken.

"This room belongs to you," he'd said. "You are now in charge when any of us gets sick."

The look of pure horror dawning on Cassie's face had been almost funny.

"But…"

"Yes?" Andros had raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not a doctor!" She'd blurted out. "I know nothing about fixing people.  _Nothing_! You'd do better to put my  _dog_  in charge of the sick-bay!"

"You can learn," he'd said. "You're the pink ranger, the healer. You wouldn't have been picked if you weren't capable of doing it."

"But… but…"

Cassie had stuttered helplessly as Andros walked out.

Carlos had ducked into an empty room as the red ranger went past. However, Andros had paused directly outside his hiding place and said quietly;

"I'll see you in the gym tomorrow morning, Carlos. I trust you won't be late."

Then he'd walked off, leaving Carlos not feeling very good at all. Was Andros going to demand to know why Carlos had been eavesdropping on his teammates? Carlos didn't really want to explain his distrust of the red ranger. Now  _that_  would be awkward. It had also crossed his mind that maybe eavesdropping was a grave insult in Kerovan culture, and Andros was going to beat the crap out of him to avenge his honour.

Unfortunately, it was a big ship but it wasn't big enough to hide in indefinitely. Carlos had shown up at the gym as directed. 

"Ah, Carlos."

Carlos turned to see Andros entering the gym. He was wearing a red tunic and pants, with soft boots up to his knees. It was a shock, seeing him in anything other than his shipboard uniform. He carried a bag casually under one arm.

"Andros."

Even in his surprise and rising trepidation – maybe Andros  _was_  going to beat the crap out of him – Carlos noticed the red ranger had an excellent body. His arms were lightly muscled, and he moved with the lean grace of a dancer. His skin was pale, but he had surprisingly few scars. Most were old and faded. His hair was pulled back from a stern but tragically young face. 

He chucked the bag at Carlos. The black ranger caught it with a grunt.

"Put these on."

"O-kay."

Carlos went into the changing room and opened the bag. The garment was an exact replica of Andros' – except that it was black.

Ah, black.

He wondered if he'd ever get used to the colour. On the Turbo team he had been the green ranger. Black was a new and strange thing for him – even though, as Ashley said, it suited him. TJ had remarked he was having the same trouble in his transition from red to blue. It didn't feel quite…right. Not yet. Like the Mega-ship, it needed to be worn in.

Carlos quickly donned the clothes and walked back out.

Andros was stretching, one leg stretched towards the ceiling, hugged against his chest. As Carlos watched, he lowered himself into the splits, lightly hammering his legs to help the muscles relax.

"Wow."

Carlos didn't realise he'd spoken aloud until Andros looked up.

"You're really flexible," Carlos remarked.

Andros thawed enough to crack a smile. _T_ _here now,_  Carlos thought. _That didn't hurt so much, did it?_   Putting his hands to the floor, Andros pulled his legs up under him and rose to his feet.

"I've been doing those exercises every day since I was five years old," he said. "What about you? How long have you been doing martial arts?"

"About six months."

The look on Andros' face was identical to when Cassie had asked him how to use 'the zappy thingies' in the infirmiry. 

"Six months," he repeated slowly, as if there had to be some sort of communication error. Carlos got annoyed. Sure he hadn't been doing judo that long, but he was okay at it.

"Yeah," he said, folding his arms and deciding to shock Andros with it all at once. "I didn't actually start until I became a ranger. After our first battle – well, I kind of figured that I needed all the help I could get."

"You had no prior training?" Andros said. "None whatsoever?"

"Nope. In fact, the only one of us who had any idea of what we were doing was Cassie – she has a black belt, you know."

"And the former rangers knew this when they chose you?"

"I assume so," Carlos said evenly, refusing to get angry.

Andros shook his head, and apparently decided to let the matter drop.

"Well, it doesn't matter. Morphing downloads the knowledge automatically and not many martial arts would help anyway with what I'm going to teach you."

"What are you going to teach me?" Carlos asked warily, interested in spite of himself.

Instead of answering, Andros sat down on the mats with his legs crossed. He indicated that Carlos should assume the same position. Carlos slowly obeyed, wondering what was wrong. Andros wasn't one to tiptoe around a subject. The words 'tactful' and 'diplomatic' were not in his vocabulary.

"Carlos," Andros said quietly. "What do you know about the roles of individual rangers?"

"Uh…" Carlos thought about it. "Just general stuff, I guess. Dimetria was pretty lenient. Blue is the brains. I know that much. Red's the leader. From what you and Cassie were talking about, pink is healing…"

"But what about your own colours? What do you know about them?"

"Green is strength," he answered. He couldn't help the faint note of pride in his voice. "We give support where it is needed. We are the backbone of the team. Without it, the team crumbles and falls."

Andros nodded.

"The mixing of colours is an interesting issue," he mused. "It takes a particular combination to make a team. Some colours simply cannot work together. Black and green, for example. They have such similar roles that it is almost impossible for a team to function normally when both are present. One or the other must become an outcast. Then there are other colours that are absolutely necessary. Red, yellow, and blue are such colours. There has never been a team that existed without these three core elements..."

Carlos listened, fascinated. No one had ever bothered to explain the dynamics of the group to him before. It confirmed things he'd only previously suspected, and forced him to think about issues he'd only vaguely been aware of.

"Black is a particularly interesting colour," Andros said. His voice was very neutral. "You must be having trouble adapting to your new role within the team."

"Not really," Carlos shrugged. "It's pretty much the same as green."

The look on Andros' face said it all.

"But it's not…is it?" Carlos said slowly. "Black means something else, doesn't it, Andros?"

The red ranger nodded.

"Carlos," he said, leaning forward. Carlos was surprised to see compassion in his usually bleak eyes. "A black ranger is…an assassin."

Carlos jerked back, certain he'd misunderstood.

"An _assassin?"_

Andros didn't seem surprised at his shock.

"And spy," he added. "Espionage is a black ranger's meat and drink."

"Espionage?  _Spy_!" Carlos was quickly forgetting that Andros had studied for years in martial arts and could probably take him apart piece-by-piece if he wanted to. He jumped to his feet. "I'm not staying here to be insulted!" He hissed, cheeks flushing red.

"I'm not insulting you," Andros said calmly. "And I'm not surprise you're angry. But you can't get out of it, Carlos. It's your…"

Carlos cut him off by saying a few choice words. He then proceeded to tell Andros  _exactly_  what he thought of him and where he could shove his role on the team.

"Well…" Andros said, when Carlos ran out of steam. He looked a little shell-shocked. "I'm sure I would have been very impressed if I'd understood a single word of that."

Carlos realized that he'd been speaking Spanish for the past five minutes. So he neatly summarised it all in two simple words.

"Fuck you."

He turned to leave. Suddenly – he wasn't quite sure how – he was on the floor. The sneaky son-of-a-bitch had tripped him! He rolled to his feet, his blood well and truly up. He didn't care that this man was his leader and that he currently owed the lives and powers of himself and his friends to him – not to mention the safety and well being of Earth. He was going to tear him a new breathing hole!

Andros, however, neatly by-passed his initial punch and grabbed him by the shoulders. Carlos went to grab his arms, but the man jabbed his thumbs into his flesh above his collarbone and applied sudden, shocking pressure.

Carlos went out like a light.

 

* * *

 

He came to staring at the ceiling. Andros was not far from him, rocking back on his heels and watching him warily.

Carlos rubbed the spot where Andros had jabbed him. It was quickly turning purple.

"That hurt!" He said.

"You were trying to hit me," Andros pointed out. Did he sound amused?

"You attacked me first!"

"True." The prick showed no sign of remorse.

Carlos sat up.

"How did you do that anyway?" He asked grudgingly.

"Pressure points."

"What, like Spock?"

Andros just looked blank. Earth culture was still a mystery to him.

"I could teach you how to do that," he said. "It's one of the many things you'll have to learn to – "

"Be an assassin. Yeah. Right."

"Carlos." Andros looked very serious. "For what it's worth, I think you would make an excellent assassin. Like yesterday, when you followed me and Cassie, if it had been any of the others, they would have had no idea you were there. Let me teach you, and you will be like a ghost.  _I_  won't even know you're there."

Carlos thought about it. The idea of being able to move without being seen was actually pretty tempting. And to learn those pressure point thingies…yeah, he wouldn't mind knowing how to do that either.

Another thought struck him.

"Are black rangers always assassins, or uh…spies?" 

Andros shrugged.

"Most teams I know. You see, black rangers are basically invisible. They're the ones that everyone dismisses as no threat – the ones that no one sees coming." 

Carlos stared at nothing.

"Adam," he whispered.

When he'd talked to his predecessor, Adam had mentioned that he'd started off as a black ranger. Had he been an assassin as well? Now that Carlos thought about it, Adam fit the profile. He was shy and unassuming. He had rarely been the target of a monster attack, rarely singled out for special treatment, being overshadowed by such legendary personalities as Tommy Oliver and Billy Cranston. In ranger history, he was barely noticed.

Basically invisible.

And thus free to move.

He hadn't been the first black ranger though, Carlos remembered. There'd been another before him, Zack or Zeek something. Now he definitely didn't fit the profile. He'd been a real joker, almost a class clown. He sounded more like he'd be more at home in green than black.

But, Carlos thought uneasily, maybe that had been his secret. Maybe that was how Zack had covered up his true nature, appearing to be a harmless buffoon in the eyes of villains. He led them to underestimate and dismiss him, then struck when they least expected it.

Like a snake, perfectly camouflaged, until the target got close enough and - 

"Carlos, you okay?"

Carlos wrenched his thoughts into the present, to Andros' worried face.

"I'm fine," he lied. 

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of ranger colours indicating specific team roles/duties is not a new one - this is just my take on it. And characteristically, a dark and disturbing one. 
> 
> Black rangers do tend to be the ones consigned to the background. There are the exceptions - Tommy and Dillon for example - who break the pattern, but by and large, black rangers don't get a big share of the limelight. Even Carlos, who I love to death, didn't get a whole lot to do during In Space, apart from being blackmailed by a little girl. 
> 
> And yet, Carlos was often the one who would do what was necessary, the unpleasant things no one else was willing to. When Andros tried to stay behind on a zord being sucked into a portal, Carlos was the one who knocked him unconscious and dragged him out. He was the one who tailed Andros when he wouldn't share his secrets and consequently was there to protect him from Ecliptor. 
> 
> My theory, therefore, is that black rangers aren't meant to be noticed, in fact go out of their way not to be noticed. Just as blues strategise and pinks monitor team well-being, black rangers quietly clear away little obstacles to make their teams' job easier. And sometimes that involves less than pleasant means.


End file.
